THE LAST RIFLEMAN - Mark Reviews Movies

The Last Rifleman, Samuel Goldwyn Films

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Review by Mark Dujsik | November 7, 2024

Loosely based on a true story, The Last Rifleman is about a 92-year-old World War II veteran trying to attend the 75th anniversary of the D-Day invasion. There are assorted complications, of course, given his age, his health, and his residency at a nursing home that believes a man in his condition shouldn't be traveling from Northern Ireland to France. Our man is determined, though, for reasons that are about more than commemorating the historic occasion and being recognized for his service.

It should be noted that the veteran, named Artie Crawford, is played by Pierce Brosnan, who's still more than two decades removed from the age of the character he plays here. There's little reason to cast a younger actor in the role. It's not particularly a physically strenuous part, because Artie, after all, is 92—almost 93, he asserts whenever someone brings up his age—and isn't going to be walking most or much of the way from his home to Normandy. Much of his journey is spent on buses, on a ferry across the English Channel, in the backseat of a car, or hiding in a relatively comfortable camper.

Here's the thing about director Terry Loane's casting choice: It turns out to be worthwhile. The makeup used to age Brosnan is thoroughly convincing, especially since we see him as Artie around the actor's current age in a flashback (One does wonder if more such moments from the more recent past were part of the original idea for the story or shot for an early cut, which might explain the decision to have Brosnan in the role). It's seamless work, really, that doesn't appear caked-on or extraneously layered and never distracts from or hides what Brosnan is doing with his performance.

The performance itself is quite good, too. Brosnan's such a compelling presence on screen generally, capable of easy charm that matches his movie-star looks or having fun with off-beat characters that subvert our expectations of him. Here, he plays a man who has spent most of a lifetime trapped in feelings of remorse, doubt, and not being the man everyone believes him to be. A lot of Brosnan's work here is in silent reflection, recalling everything that has happened to lead him to this point and still reckoning with those emotions. It's a very good thing that the makeup is as effective as it is, or else the subtlety of Brosnan's performance might have been lost.

Instead, it props up a film that initially comes across as gimmicky and meandering, only to reveal depths of regret and uncertainty in its protagonist. By the end, we feel as if we understand this man, haunted by so much more than witnessing the horrors of the war, losing the people closest to him, and realizing that he is, as the title tells us, the last of his kind.

This starts, then, as a fun and funny depiction of an unlikely journey, but Loane and screenwriter Kevin Fitzpatrick gradually embrace an air of melancholy that's surprisingly affecting. Much of that, yes, is due to Brosnan's work, but the storytelling itself, while pretty plain about its intentions, guides us through that tonal shift, as well.

Initially, Artie doesn't have much of life beyond or within the walls of the care facility. He has a daughter, a granddaughter, and a great-grandson who don't visit often, but Artie does have his beloved wife Maggie (Stella McCusker), who also lives in the home. She is mostly bedridden and has dementia, but Artie is right there for any moment of clarity his wife might experience, talking to her, feeding her ice cream, and not appearing too bothered when she mistakes him for their childhood friend. There's a whole world in the little pause Artie gives before correcting Maggie, though, as those flashbacks eventually reveal.

Maggie dies early in the story, leaving Artie alone, with even less to do, and without much to look forward to for as long as he has left. TV news coverage of the upcoming D-Day anniversary, though, puts an idea in his mind, and even though he has a long list of health conditions (diabetes, a weak heart, high blood pressure, etc.) and an expired passport and no one able or willing to join him on the trip, Artie decides to go to France for the commemoration ceremony.

At first, Fitzpatrick seems set on simply detailing the assorted difficulties and many hurdles of Artie's trek—from sneaking out of the nursing home in a laundry truck, to missing the last train that would get him to the ferry in time, to a bus breaking down, to the question of what's to be done about not having an up-to-date passport. However, the story becomes more about the people he meets and who help him along the way.

Those assorted characters are played by the likes of Samuel Bottomley as a fellow bus passenger who helps Artie get to the ferry, Clémence Poésy as a French mother who smuggles him into France, Jürgen Prochnow as a military veteran from the other side of the war, and John Amos as an American veteran. All of them form brief but potent bonds of shared interests, uncertainty, and experiences during the war with Artie, giving him some understanding, a new perspective, or basic kindness as he wrestles with the pain of his past and his struggles in finding meaning or purpose in it all.

The Last Rifleman is a simple story, to be sure. The way it evolves into a study of regret, loss, and connection, though, makes it worthwhile.

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